Photo Credit: Aastha Bansal

He stood with confidence,

Even when others see him,

As a man with no sense:

He smiles, sometimes befriends,

Those who are wise and unwise,

And lack credence: in his poetic way,

The battlefield is to conquer and protect;

His own — silently yet patiently,

He waits for his precious and dearest,

Cherished friend: Structure and prayer,

Is his spiritual food of the day,

And he is a man that does not,

Take on foolishness, even when things,

Becomes hard, his beloved, has his heart:

He is a Prince always on guard every minute,

Second and hour of the day.

Empress Journee